


war ain't no place.

by lannisnow



Category: The Pacific (TV)
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha/Omega, Dubious Consent, Kinda goes with the territory unfortunately, Knotting, M/M, MPreg (mentioned), Scenting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-24
Updated: 2015-04-24
Packaged: 2018-03-25 12:19:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,631
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3810136
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lannisnow/pseuds/lannisnow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>two ficlets i wrote at my friend after i accidentally said "but what if a/b/o?" omega!snafu/alpha!sledge.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. hope you don't die.

**Author's Note:**

> don't haTE ME

the first kid to ever not make a comment is sledge, and snafu figures it’s ‘cause the kid already knows. he’s an alpha, with a scent thick as they come, and through his pills snafu can smell the stench of a far-off rut. it’s not infuriating but it is fucking enticing and it throws snafu for a bit of a loop at first. he keeps lookin’ at him like he’s a magnet, his eyes are drawn to him.

he’s just off droppin’ his dishes off after chow when he hears some kid talkin’ to sledge about it, and he only saw the decency to his face, takes a slow step back until he’s hidden behind the tent again and peeks around the corner to see a recruit perched next to sledge at the table, shoving food down his throat between words, “you hear that fuckin’ bitch is an omega?” he asks, elbowing sledge in the side. snafu’s eyes catch one of his men turn from down the table like he heard it and sees him rub his hand under his nose and start to stand up, ready to throw a punch that he’ll be reprimanded for, until he sees snafu peering from behind the tent. snafu lifts a finger to his mouth and presses it against his lips. silence. the man sits back down and nods, touching his forehead in a lazy salute.

“i heard. it matter?” sledge answers after a second. snafu sees a pocket bible clutched in his right hand just under the table, pressed against his shaking thigh. what an alpha snafu thinks, lip pulls up in a half-grin as amusement rattles through his mind.

“i ain’t fightin’ with no breeder” the other recruit says. maybe it would be more of a blow if the virgin’d ever seen a fuckin’ pussy in his life, snafu thinks, or ever shot his military rifle at anything other than a straw-filled jap uniform.

“then ask to move companies,” sledge answers with what sounds like a sigh. “he’s a marine. he wants to kill japs. that’s what we’re here to do, isn’t it? fight for freedom. kill the enemy.” sledge shrugs. “i don’t much care where his alignment lays.”

“ain’t you curious how he fucks, though? you’re a god-fearin’ man. it’s a sin, ain’t it?” the other recruit asks. snafu sees sledge’s fingers go white where he’s clutching his bible for a moment, and then he straightens up, tucks his bible in the inside of his jacket, grabs his bowl from the table, and stands up.

“that ain’t none of my business,” sledge says. snafu pulls back a bit, until he is only leering with one eye, can only see sledge’s back and how tight it is with strain, proper posture from a rich boy down south. “long as he’s shootin’ where i’m shootin’, I don’t care.” and he turns around, comes towards snafu, towards where they drop their dishes, and snafu takes a few steps back grins to himself and walks forward after a moment of waiting.

sledge crashes into him and starts apologizing before he hits the ground. he straightens up to attention, on his feet, looking at snafu with a tight jaw. “sorry, sir,” he says, and snafu grins wide and bares his teeth, bites down on his bottom lip and looks real close at this new recruit.

“ain’t got no medals,” he says, swaying on his feet just a bit. “don’t gotta call me no sir.” sledge hesitates. nods. snafu runs his teeth down his bottom lip again and blinks hard, tilts his head. “you gotta smoke?”

sledge reaches down to grab his bowl from the ground and shakes his head. “don’t smoke. sorry,” he apologizes again. snafu smiles and rolls his shoulder in a shrug, hands waving as a dismissal of the apology. ain’t got nothing to apologize for, he thinks, but he moves around sledge to walk off instead.

“hope you don’t die,” he says over his shoulder, low and soft, but sledge turns to look at him, and snafu sees the fear that jolts in his eyes.


	2. war ain't no place.

"for god's sake snafu are you in heat?" he hears whispered at him, and snafu's ears prickle and throb deep down into his head. his legs tense up, his cock bobs between his thighs, and he's wet enough to quench the thirst of every man on this fuckin' side of the earth. it's like no matter how tightly he wraps his poncho around him, his skin begs for something to grip him tighter. suffocate him. maybe he's just tryin' to die.

"sure am," he drawls out, eyes prying open to follow sledge's movement around the foxhole. "forgotta bring my suppressants." he breathes in the scent of his pack under his head. blood. shit. mud. rain. "thought i was fucked up. turns out, still works just fine."

sledge's nostrils are flared wide, and his pupils wider. he sticks his head up and out of the foxhole, and snafu can see his shadow look back and forth, one end of the world to the other. "what if the japs smell you?" he asks, so much anger in his voice that snafu shakes and finds himself baring his throat. submission. an invitation. fuck, he wish he knew what his body was doin' to him.

"they shoot men for less," snafu says, a soft pant in his voice that he despises. wants to take back that breath and say it right. he reaches out for the barrel of sledge's rifle and grasps it, brings it to his forehead. it feels like a joke, it was supposed to be a joke. snafu is smiling, but sledge has gone still. "want you t'be the one that does it."

the rifle makes a sizeable noise when it pulls back from his grip, the butt of it slamming into the soft mud. thunder claps, at least snafu hopes it's thunder, and he shakes a little more, pulls his poncho even tighter. "christ, snafu," sledge says, glancing over the wall of the foxhole again before putting his rifle down and getting lower, pressing his back against the mud.

"we could end it fast if i fuck you," sledge says, and it's the moment snafu was really hopin' he wouldn't hear, but his body needs it so bad, and snafu'd rather lay on his back for sledge than have a bullet in his brain for callin' the japs directly to their position.

the way sledge looks at him makes him feel weak. pitied. snafu's never been one to complain for a bit of a pity-fuck himself but he'd just wished it'd been anyone else that had stumbled into his foxhole even seconds earlier. sledge means too much to him for that. sledge is his brother. they been through too much together for sledge to look at him like he's made out of some fragile fucking glass.

"well heeeell, how long you been trynna get in my pants?" snafu says, but his fingers are already pulling at his trousers, taking off his belt as quickly as they'll allow. always clumsy, always slow. they burn when he pushes them down his hips. they're gonna fuck in the dirt like animals. in the mud, the rain. he's gonna get fuckin' bred like some kind of dog and it puts a sting in his eye.

"about five seconds," sledge answers, but there's a grimace of a smile in the way. "you been through a heat before?" he asks

snafu nods, watches as sledge starts moving, kneels up to undo his trousers just enough to pull his cock out. he's limp. snafu flinches and looks away as sledge tugs on himself, falls back on his heels and looks up at the cover that's pulled over their foxhole. for a second all he can hear is the rain.

"you need any scenting or is just a knot good enough?" and he sounds like a damn-well expert. snafu stares at him for a long minute, wonders how this shy little man that walked into snafu's tent can ask a question like that now.

"scentin', too. whole time i'm tied i cry. just a warnin'." he wants to ask where sledge found this shit out, but he remembers him sayin' something about an older brother, and he's a boy, probably read enough books and heard enough stories from his friends. hell, the marines probably didn't help. and he ain't wrong. snafu needs it. all of it, for the heat to die down.

"alright," sledge says, nods, and shuffles down. the first touch of his hand on snafu's thigh sends a hard jolt through him. his belly aches, grasps at nothing, and he's already come once in his pants earlier, a second one is building up and it's painful already. too long without it, he thinks.

"you need a hand?" snafu asks, eyes keen on sledge's still-soft cock, but sledge shakes his head, as if the question offends him. he's lost in some kind of thought snafu wishes he could chase, before he shifts snafu's legs apart and moves between them.

"no, no, i just, let me-" he stops and rucks up snafu's poncho and the shirt that's still on him. his mouth finds snafu's stomach. snafu arches into him, hands reaching down and bunching the fabric at sledge's shoulders. rain-slick poncho, cool against his fingers, brings him back for just a second, from the pain and the pleasure, the imminent orgasm that's just waiting for a tipping point, to the fact that he's fucking in a foxhole in the middle of jap territory.

he's always been prepared to die, it's just that now he'll end up takin' sledge with him. he's not sure if he can take that, consciously, but then sledge's tongue is laving above his cock, and he hears a noise, the softest, smallest noise from sledge, and he's gone again.

"that shit turn you on?" snafu asks, looking down. he can barely keep his eyes open but sledge lifts his head for a second and there's moisture all over his lips, and he nods. his eyes are blown black. snafu sees sledge's cock is half-hard and he's still working on it, drops his face back down to where snafu must smell like heat and musk and want. he can't smell himself, but he's sure that's what sledge is scenting, all of it, pure fuckin' hormones, like the ones dripping off of sledge when he works himself up.

sledge's chin and neck touch at snafu's cock, and then he's moving down and his cock is against sledge's cheek and sledge is laving at the base. snafu can feel his tongue press hard down, his teeth tug at delicate skin. snafu shakes, his thighs quivering every time sledge's skin touches against his cock, every time his tongue gets it spit-wet just at the base, tilts his head to kiss it on the side, soft lips and slick tongue, teeth hidden and not daring to come out.

snafu comes and sledge whines. it's the kind of orgasm that feels like white noise ripping through him, where there's a ringing in his ears and static behind his eyes, where all his muscles clench at once and all he can do is let out a forceful breath and the start of a sound.

"good boy," sledge says against his cock. there's come in his hair, snafu can see, and on his cheek, slipping down to drip off of his chin and onto the dirt, or snafu's poncho, or his leg, fuck, he doesn't know, but sledge straightens up and every single instinct in snafu shifts to the forefront.

his legs fall further apart. his neck bares. he's making soft noises in the back of his throat, appeasing sounds he know will a cock in him now, and his hands pin at his sides, wrists up, baring all his pulse points.

"good boy," sledge says again, and snafu breathes hard, eyes wide and straining to look at sledge from the corner of his eyes. sledge slips an arm under snafu's poncho and drags his wrist down snafu's side. pushes it under his back and rucks up his hips. his other hand guides his cock right in, right home, and snafu shakes.

it's so slow, so agonizingly slow. every push and pull of sledge's hips drags for an eternity before he's back in, and every time he does the thick ring of his promised knot tugs so gently at snafu that he arches and pulls his hands into fists. "where'd you learn how to fuck sledgehammer?" snafu snaps.

sledge leans over him and grips onto snafu's pulse with his teeth. his tongue laves over his skin, and it's complete submission. snafu knows nothing but in that moment, his brain shuts down, but he's moaning and his eyes are stinging-hot the harder sledge's teeth grip in his throat.

sledge's hand is slipping up his poncho and grabbing his ribs for leverage, completely folded over him and snafu comes again. he's whining and there are words tripping out of his mouth, a soft growl against his throat shuts him up in a second, his mouth closes and he basks in the sense of losing his control, relinquishing it to this beast, this alpha that's fucking into him.

he comes again a minute later when sledge slams into him and snarls, teeth digging hard into his neck, and there's a stretch, a sharp tug, and a sigh above him. the teeth leave his neck and snafu comes to with bleary, sore eyes. he squeezes his hands into fists again and they ache. he tenses his thighs and they ache. he arches his back and it puts pressure on the knot and it aches though not as badly as it could.

sledge leans over him and presses his nose under his chin and snafu obliges. "you're right," sledge says.

"'bout what?" snafu drawls, his voice shakes just enough. sledge pulls back and looks at him.

"you're cryin'."

snafu blinks, slow and hard, feels tears and not rain drip down his face and into his hairline. he wonders if it cleans off the dirt or if it just... spreads it around.

"always cry when i'm knotted."

"that an omega thing or a you thing?" sledge asks, running his wrists up slowly up and down snafu's sides. snafu shrugs.

"ain't ever seen another omega get knotted, ain't ever asked," he answers, lifting his jaw when sledge puts his face back to work at his pulse points. everything smells so sickly sweet, like candy he hasn't eaten in too many months to count, or like flowers he's never tried to smell. the hormones make it sweet, but it's only up close. not strong enough to make the japs notice, not like a full-heat is.

"think you'll make it 'til the end of the war, now?" sledge asks. snafu shrugs his shoulders.

"guess we'll find out. get me pregnant an' maybe."

sledge stops and jerks his head up, looks down at snafu in stone-cold seriousness that means a kinda business snafu tries to keep away from.

"don't say that."

"alright," snafu drawls. he's smilin', though, 'cause of the face sledge pulls after. like he just been suckin' on a lemon.

"how long this usually last?" sledge asks, and snafu shrugs.

"a while. get comfy, sledgehammer, we gotta night. might gotta shoot some japs while you're tied to me." thunder claps again, as though it's making a statement, and sledge nods and looks towards his rifle. he doesn't reach for it.

snafu turns his head in the mud to watch the rain drip from where the cover doesn't reach. a war ain't no place to raise a baby, he thinks. ain't no place to raise a grown man, neither.


End file.
